


Morgan & Jones

by twelfth_doctor



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Brotp, Gen, Henry just going along for the ride because he's run out of excuses not to, Lucas being a Critical Fanboy, brief gore warning for when they talk about the Nazi face-melting in Raiders of the Lost Ark, lots of Indiana Jones references, silly dorks hanging out together because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3230027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelfth_doctor/pseuds/twelfth_doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucas and Henry have an all-night Indiana Jones movie marathon.</p><p>Inspired by the preview for 1x14 “Hitler on the Half-Shelf.” Written for the Sleepless in New York Ficathon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Invitation

“Stolen Nazi art? What, is this guy Indiana Jones?” Lucas joked, not quite believing they had caught a case so like something out of an action movie.

 

“Who's Indiana Jones?”

 

Lucas gaped. “Seriously? Doc, you've never seen Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

 

Henry quirked an eyebrow and shook his head.

 

“Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom? Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade?” Lucas listed as Henry continued to shake his head. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “ _The Fourth One Which Shall Not Be Named?_ ”

 

“Lucas, what are you on about?” Henry asked. He leaned in closer to the body on the exam table and picked up a scalpel from his waiting tray of instruments, not expecting an interesting answer, but more welcoming what he mentally referred to as “Wahl White Noise.” Over the years of working together, he had grown to find Lucas's fanboy drone almost soothing. Henry even accidentally retained some of what Lucas said from time to time.

 

“Doc, this is just unacceptable. I might— _might_ —I'm not saying it's likely, I'm just saying there's a _chance_ that I _might_ be able to get past you not having seen the movies, but you've never even _heard_ of Indiana Jones the badass fictional character, archaeologist, and Pop Culture Icon?”

 

Henry, having begun his autopsy of the victim in earnest did not look up. “I take it this series of films means a great deal to you, for you to be so passionate about it. Pass me that bone saw, would you please?”

 

Lucas moved closer to hand Henry the requested tool and considered the ME's observation for a moment.

 

“I guess they were a big part of my childhood...” Lucas reflected with sincerity. “We had them all on VHS and I would watch them all the time. I might have been little Indie for Halloween once or twice. Then, time went on, I probably should have grown out of it, but I bought the movies for myself again as soon as they came out on DVD—big mistake. Horrible transfer, and _fullscreen_ , to boot,” Lucas shuddered at the thought. “I should have waited for the restored editions. But, whatever. I've got them on BluRay now. Oh, and, uh. I wrote...not my dissertation, obviously, but just, like, a really long and detailed paper analyzing them for a class in film school, no big deal. The professor said my analysis was 'insightful.'”

 

At this, Henry sighed, and did finally look up at Lucas. Unbidden, a brief, sympathetic smile rippled over the doctor's face.

 

Lucas, who had legitimately been working on his observation skills, caught the look on Henry's face and saw it as an opportunity, “You know what we should do?”

 

“Focus on finishing this autopsy and provide crucial information that will help Detectives Martinez and Hanson solve this case?” Henry guessed facetiously.

 

“Yes, that.” Lucas laughed nervously. Suddenly hyper-aware that he was at work and Henry was his supervisor, even if he wasn't being 100% serious. “Obviously that is the top priority. We should absolutely do _that_ first.”

 

Henry gave a little hum and nodded in agreement, once again focused on spreading open the decedent's ribcage.

 

Undeterred by the doctor's focus on his work, Lucas continued, “But another, separate, _other_ thing that we _could_ do, is have an Indiana Jones movie marathon! You and me.”

 

Seconds passed with no visible reaction that Henry had even heard him, and Lucas's confidence began to falter. He nervously added, “They're really good and you'll like them, I swear. Plus, they really are kind of a big deal, and you won't have to deal with people looking at you funny for not having heard of them anymore.”

 

“Perhaps...” Henry began. “Once this case is done, perhaps I'll consider it.”

 

Lucas screamed internally and began to plot ways to turn “perhaps I'll consider it” into a “yes, I suppose.”

 


	2. Terms & Conditions & Popcorn

“To reiterate, Lucas, I've only agreed to watch the first of these films. I have absolutely no desire to watch four movies back-to-back while seated on this so-called sofa of yours.”

  
“First of all, calling _Raiders_ the first one is a misconception. Little known fact: _Temple of Doom_ was actually a prequel and takes place chronologically earlier in the Indiana Jones Universe. But _Raiders_ was the first of the series to be produced, so I'll forgive you just this once. And second of all, what's wrong with my couch?” Lucas asked indignantly.

 

“It appears to be trying to _swallow me_ , Lucas! I may not escape with my spine intact,” Henry groused.

 

To be fair, the soft cushions were enveloping him more than usual. Dr. Morgan looked almost laughably out of place at Chez Wahl; he was sitting on said sofa while wearing a three-piece suit and recently polished shoes. And it's not like he came straight from work, Henry had had plenty of time to change into more comfortable movie-watching attire. He simply elected not to.

 

“What d'you expect, Doc? I happen to think it's comfy, and I got it for a bargain.” Lucas had the presence of mind to not mention just how much of a bargain. He had garbage picked it before any of the big New York City bedbug outbreaks, but thought it best to not scare anyone _else_ out of his apartment with that particular story. Even The Least Judgmental Person You'll Ever Meet is bound to have his limits. “And I promise, I won't duct tape you down and force you to watch all of them. Consent is important. I just _happen_ to have all four of them on Blu-Ray sitting right over there on the shelf if you change your mind. No pressure.”

 

Henry glanced around, fully taking in his surroundings. He had to admit, the living room in Lucas's apartment was much better suited for movie-watching than the one above the antique shop. There was a television in it, for one. Sure, Abe and Henry did technically own a TV, but it was a small, humble old thing. Abraham used it only rarely, and it was stored on a cart in a closet, rather than featured as the main focal point of the room.

 

Lucas's television and sound system appeared to be the only things in the apartment he had spent _any_ money on: a slightly-too-large-for-the-space flatscreen and similarly oversized speakers in each corner. In between all of that, the walls were covered in (framed, at least) posters and what appeared to be autographed comic book—er— _graphic novel_ art. The rest of the furnishings were a horrible hodgepodge of what must have been thrift shop finds, cheap IKEA products, and repurposed milk crates.

 

While Henry was in one of his thoughtful dazes, Lucas slipped into the kitchen to start the popcorn. From various cabinets Lucas procured a large bowl, aluminum foil, a jar of fancy heirloom popcorn kernels, and some oil.

 

“Lucas?” Henry called, curious about his absence. “Lucas, what are you doing?” He hurled himself forward to escape the sofa's clutches and wandered towards the clattering sounds of Lucas at work.

 

“Hope you like popcorn!”

 

“I do.” He watched the elaborate process happening before him in the microscopic kitchenette. “I'm just pleased that you're not trying to feed me microwaved nonsense.”

 

“Never! Well, I say never. Not if I can help it. I just _love_ real movie theatre popcorn, but as long as I'm home and I have a choice, I'll always pop some myself. This is the Good Eats Method.”

 

Henry's brow furrowed, once again not understanding a reference.

 

“Oh, come on. You've never seen Good Eats either? It's a cooking show? With Alton Brown?”

 

“Sorry, no.”

 

“Well, you're missing out. This guy is basically coming at food with the Scientific Method and bending it to his will.” Lucas set the foil-covered bowl over his stovetop and began shifting it around the burner. “He did a bunch of tests and figured out this is the most efficient way to pop popcorn at home.”

 

“Hang on, this sounds familiar. Is this gentleman in any way associated with America's Test Kitchen?”

 

Lucas almost knocked the hot bowl over. “Doc, did _you_ just make a TV show reference? I thought you didn't even _have_ one and that was why we're doing this here.”

 

“Contain yourself, Lucas,” Henry chided. “Abraham has a television and _occasionally_ watches PBS too loudly, and I _occasionally_ overhear some of that programme, usually while I'm in another room. But it does sound very informative.” Henry had to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the sound of the kernels popping.

 

“Right on, Dr. Morgan! Accidentally listening to TV sometimes!” Lucas laughed. The popping slowed. “Anywho, this is ready. And the two shows aren't affiliated, I don't think. Cable and public television are totally different worlds.”

 

Henry hummed in agreement. “I can imagine.” He gestured back towards the couch and entertainment center, “Shall we?”

 

 


	3. Raiders

The end credits ran. Soberly, Henry turned to Lucas and said, “I've never seen a Nazi's face melt in real life, Lucas, but I can assure you, it would not look like that.”

 

“Oh, come on, Doc. It's a _movie_. Wait, are you serious? Hang on, I wanna take notes. See if I can't get it right for my next horror Vine. I've been dying to try out some new practical effects; there's too much CGI nowadays, don't you think?”

 

“I didn't understand a word you just said, but okay.” Henry looked puzzled, but didn't continue his rant until Lucas had opened an app on his phone and said he was ready. Henry then drew in long breath and launched into a lecture about different human tissues reacting differently to acids and how nothing would liquefy flesh so completely and so quickly. He also used the word 'viscera' three times in one sentence to prove a particularly disgusting point.

 

So engrossed was he in Henry's scientific debunking of magic and an unrealistic stop-motion effect featured in a 34-year-old movie, Lucas barely registered that the doctor had (finally) removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves to gesticulate more freely.

 

Eventually the tirade fizzled out and Henry realized how absurd it had been to take issue with such a small detail. He started chuckling.

 

“Pfft, I told you you'd like the movie, Henry,” Lucas said with amusement.

 

“Hang on, I never actually said I liked it!”

 

Lucas would ordinarily fold under such an outburst from his boss, but Henry was still grinning, so he didn't buy it for a second. “Yeah, right, Doc. You liked it, you're just a Critical Fan. I'm like that, too. People get the wrong impression all the time. I'll really like something, but only ever want to talk about its flaws. Figuring out how it could have been done better is part of the fun!”

 

“Fair enough, Lucas. I did enjoy the movie. And now I do understand the reference you made three weeks ago when we caught that case.” With some effort, Henry stood up and stretched.

 

Lucas's face fell, but he tried to hide his disappointment. After all, it had been made perfectly clear that they were only guaranteed one movie for the night.

 

“Now,” Henry said, taking his pocket watch out of his waistcoat pocket and glancing at it. “It's only eleven o'clock. What do you say we put on a pot of coffee and watch one more?”


	4. Temple

“Before you even say anything, I know.”

 

“Lucas.” Henry stared straight at the credits, as if trying to divine some other meaning from the scrolling names.

 

“ _I know_.”

 

“What the hell was that, Lucas.”

 

“Not good. Or at least not as good as it appeared to be in 1984. Simpler times, I guess.”

 

“Staggeringly more racist times, apparently. Did Indiana Jones _own_ that little Asian boy? How could he so recklessly endanger a child in his care? And the implication that the villagers were so utterly helpless until a white man came to save them? That's a tad imperialistic, don't you think? So many questions, but most of them can be summed up as WHY?”

 

“I'm sorry! I swear to you, the next one is 8,000 times better!”

 

“It would have to be. I can't leave with this having been the last thing I saw,” said Henry shaking his head a little too vigorously and making himself slightly dizzy. Lucas heard him grumble something under his breath about ' _heart-ripping-out' nonsense_.

 

“I _agree_. Plus, The Last Crusade is my absolute favorite,” Lucas insisted, grinning as he got up to stretch and bound excitedly into the kitchen. “And would you look at that. The coffee is still hot! You want me to add a little something to yours this time?”

 

“Thank you, Lucas,” Henry stifled a yawn. “I should like that very much, I think.”


	5. Last Crusade

“I was not _crying_ , Lucas. Please desist.”

 

It was getting very late indeed. And Lucas was grinning at him like the sleep-deprived cat who ate the canary.

 

“My eyes were dry from mild sleep deprivation and staring at his blasted screen all night. In reaction to the dryness, my eyes began to water. It's a perfectly natural occurrence,” Henry said. And it wasn't a lie; it happened to him sometimes. Just not that particular time. The film had dredged up some rather powerful emotions about father/son relationships. Henry wondered briefly if Abraham had seen this film.

 

“Right, your eyes just so happened to water when it looked like Henry Jones, Sr. was dying. That's cool. That is a _totally_ believable coincidence,” teased Lucas.

 

Henry cleared his throat impatiently, “ _Do_ let it go, Lucas.”

 

“Okay, okay. You get a pass this time. It's late. People start to lose their filters this late at night. That, and it is truly an excellent movie and no one could _really_ blame you for shedding A Single Manly Tear during that scene. In fact, _someone_ might think it made you seem more human. But it doesn't matter, because it didn't happen.” Lucas winked and mimed zipping his lips shut.

 

Henry nodded solemnly. “Right. I appreciate that.” Henry looked away, eyes drooping. It appeared to Lucas like he might space out again or even fall asleep. It was very quiet in the living room for a few minutes.

 

“Doc, I would understand completely if you wanted to skip the last movie. I'm not even sure why I own it.”

 

Henry visibly shook the doldrums away and turned his focus back to the man sitting opposite him on the sofa. “For completionism's sake, I'd wager. The same reason why we must press on, Lucas. It is simply _far_ too late to turn back now.” The doctor rubbed his eyes with balled fists and yawned spectacularly as he said, “Once more unto the breach.”


	6. The Fourth One

“I've made a huge mistake.”

 

“That's what Steven Spielberg says to himself every day of his life. But he has millions of dollars to comfort him, so I have limited sympathy for the guy.” Lucas sighed, and looked for all the world like he was literally _mourning_ the squandered potential of what a fourth Indiana Jones film could have been.

 

“Lucas,” Henry said, “I am going to go home, go to sleep, and forget this bizarre monstrosity with 'inter-dimensional beings' ever happened. I may forget Temple of Doom, as well.”  
  


“I can't say that I blame you, Doc. I tried to warn you, but the thing is, _no one warned the world_. So, now you share in the collective disappointment of people who liked Raiders and then saw Temple of Doom, and you've experienced the tragic disillusionment that has struck everyone who has ever seen The Fourth One. Welcome to the world of shared cultural experiences, Henry. It's very often terrible, but at least there's lots of folks you can commiserate with.”

 

“That is a rather poetic romanticization of pop culture, Lucas. Are you always this ruminative at five in the morning?” Henry asked while struggling to once more remove himself from the clutches of the dreaded sofa.

 

“Maybe. Too bad I'm usually sleeping, right? For real, it is getting to be seriously late or outlandishly early, depending on how you wanna look at it. I should get to bed, too,” said Lucas.

  
“Quite. It's almost daybreak, and I can all but guarantee I'm going to fall asleep on the train ride home and end up God knows where. But all the same, I rather enjoyed myself. Thank you. For the hospitality and the entertainment, Lucas.”

 

“Any time, Doc, really. In fact, next time we do this: Star Wars.”

 

Henry pulled on his suit jacket and looked around for his scarf. “O..kay? I think I've at least heard of that one. Please tell me there aren't as many of those?”

 

A dark look came over Lucas's features. “It's a trilogy, Henry. _Just a trilogy._ ”

 

“Why do you say it like that? And where is my blasted scarf _\--_?”

 

“Don't let anyone tell you different, Henry! Not even me. If, a year from now, you hear me talking about some other Star Wars movie, do yourself a favor and ignore every word I say. If a stranger on the street tries to tell you there are seven of them, I want you to shake your head and laugh.” He reiterated very seriously and with great finality, “There are three. Star Wars. Movies.”

 

Then Lucas completely shifted gears and politely said, “Your coat and scarf are over there,” pointing Henry towards the dual-purpose bookcase/coat rack near the door.

 

“Ah! Thank you. I'm not sure I want to understand whatever Star Wars business you're talking about right now, so let's just save that for another time, shall we? I'm just going to... _go._ Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Lucas. I will see you on Monday.”

 

Lucas got up and walked Henry the rest of the way to the door. “Thanks for coming, Doc. See ya Monday.”

 

Henry paused at the door, looking tired, confused, and a little embarrassed. “Sorry, last night seems ages ago—the subway is...?”

 

“No problem, turn to your left when you leave the building, and it's three blocks down. Take it easy, Henry.”

 

“I'll try. Thanks again, Lucas. I am genuinely glad you wheedled me into doing this. Next time, I should be more agreeable and you won't have to try so hard.” Henry's smile conveyed warmth and an unspoken apology for being so difficult to get to know.

 

“Oh, I don't mind a challenge. Henry Morgan, I will make a 21st century nerd out of you yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I broke this into so many tiny chapters! It seemed like a good idea at the time.
> 
> Don't forget to read all the other great works in this collection!


End file.
